


Faded Silk and Shinning Topaz

by Dinolad



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Halloween Fiction, Ithro needs a hug, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Robbie needs sleep, The kids are grown ups now, i'm sure i'll have other tags, lovely dork, old house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:17:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinolad/pseuds/Dinolad
Summary: The dust collects over the faded silk in the old Victorian house. Robbie Rotten never thought that blue could be his favorite color.





	1. Budding Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnús Scheving is the owner of Lazytown and its characters. Company bought by Turner Broadcasting in 2011.

It wasn’t quiet autumn but the wind was cool and the leaves where turning golden at the edges. Trees lined the quiet street on either side keeping away the sun and casting beautiful shadows on the pavement. Old couples watched the new comers from their rockers, content in the peaceful evening as they smoked their cigars and drank their tea.

Robbie breathed in the crisp air. A cool breeze attempted to ruffle his stiffly gelled hair as he walked up the blue stone path. His favorite holiday was around the corner and he was determined to own his own house by then, sick of his cousin’s antics in the small apartment jammed between two buildings in the ass crack of the city. The problem, though, was that Robbie was on a budget and quite picky on top of that.

Luckily this house was old, gorgeous, and suspiciously cheap.

As Robbie followed the realtor up the wooden steps to the old wraparound porch he couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with the old Victorian house. The wood did not creak, the trimming while needing paint did not look rotted, there appeared to be no foundation problem, and the grounds while over grown in areas were large in both the front and the rear.

“The lock is a little tricky,” he heard his realtor Mark say as he picked out the correct key from an overflowing ring.

“It can always be changed,” Robbie commented, looking up at the porch ceiling. He’d have to have inspectors come, check things out around the house just in case.

“…Of course Mr. Rotten.” Mark said, sounding unconvinced.

It took Robbie a moment to notice that the lock was shiny, no wear at all. It, unlike everything else on the porch, looked barely used. He gazed over at his neighbors, while Mike fought with the lock. They must have bought a rather cheap one seeing how he spent a good minute aggressive turning the key before pushing the large cream colored door open.

Dust.

A lot of dust. Robbie walked into the foyer, noting that most of the furniture has been left. Colored pictures covered the walls, sun bleached, tape peeling. It was obvious that kids drew them, pictures of monochromatic stick figures holding each other’s hands and playing games. Pink, yellow, red, and blue seemed to be the most often used. These figures showing up in most of the curling pictures.

“They didn’t take their belongings?” Robbie asked, scrunching his nose as the dusts swirled up from the floor.

“The owner died, they had only one living family member who comes to tend the garden sometimes. He will be informed if you move in of course.” Mark said, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh…Okay,” Robbie said, not sure how to respond. He wondered into the living room, trying not to disturb the dust. The place seemed sparsely decorated, mostly just drawn pictures and some sport’s equipment. Any photos must have been taken. “They don’t clean inside at all?”

“The relative doesn’t go in the house and we’ve been having trouble with the lock, as you saw, so the cleaners haven’t been through here in a while.”

Robbie hummed as he fingered the faded silk curtains at the front windows, examining the hand stitched hem. Parts appeared sloppily, the thread color not always matching, as if it was done by a child while other parts where neat and careful.

“The previous owner, they had kids?” Robbie found himself asking.

“No sir…The previous owner lived alone.” Mark said, walking over to the fire place. “This is a nice feature, it’ll keep the house nice and warm in the winter and there’s plenty of wood in the back under the tarp already chopped.” Robbie turned to look at the brick fire place, the mantle littered with little nick knacks; colorful clay animals, poorly constructed origami, macaroni pictures, and charm bracelets.

“Huh,” Robbie walked over, picking up a small pink dog. He felt an odd chill up his spine, probably a draft from the old fire place. “Hmm, well, this thing is probably going to cost me since it’s just a huge opening to the outside.” He gently placed the figure down before walking towards the center of the room, looking up at the interior balcony.

“Mr. Rotten, I can assure you that the fire place is up to standards. It will not cause a draft and you can keep the grate shut if you wish.”

“You know that there are posts broken up there,” Robbie said as he pointed out the cracked rail.

“Yes Mr. Rotten, it was mentioned on the website. As I said, the relative will not come to fix it. He only came to collect a few personal items.”

“Why hasn’t this place sold yet? It looks like it’s been years.” Robbie asked as he made his way up the steps to examine the post. Mark quickly followed behind him, pulling him away from the rail.

“There is some history…”

“What kind of “history”,” Robbie asked, nose twitching in irritation.

“Well,” Mark looked over at the broken rail. “The owner died. In the house. It’s a little off putting for some people.”

“Oh, that’s just great, was he murdered?”

“Well, it was either an accident or suicide, no one is sure.”

Robbie watched the man a moment, placing his hands on his hips.

“That’s it? Nothing else?” Robbie asked, scrutinizing the relator.

“Yes, that’s it, nothing else,” Mark said. Robbie wasn’t sure if he believed the man, but that’s what inspectors where for. “Shale we see the rest of the house?”

~~

Robbie walked through the rooms, Mark trailing behind. The man seemed a little timid now, a little down, he must think that he was going to lose the sale again. Well, a little death wasn’t going to deter Robbie, no, his cousin Glanni made sure of that.

The master bedroom was odd, the bed small. There were nails where pictures use to hang and the closet was filled with blue and white clothing. The hoodie in it felt soft and smelt of apples and cinnamon. Robbie kind of liked it.

The other two room where a weight room with yoga mats on the wall, Robbie scrunched his nose and walked past it rather quickly, and a small library with a nice warn sofa. Robbie spent a little time in this room, admiring the view of the back garden as he ran his fingers over the silk curtain.

The bathroom though, was by far the best room upstairs.

While it had a door to the hall it also connected with the master bedroom. Apart from the dust the whole thing looked rather clean.

The tub was huge, long enough for Robbie to lie in. Perfect. The majority of the tiles were decorated with little green vines, other tiles with verbena and forget-me-nots seemed to have been thrown in randomly to add some color. It was cute.

Robbie opened the window, taking note of the creak, and stuck his head out. The garden was rather large and well-tended. There seemed to be so much love poured into the little rows of boxes that Robbie felt a little bad about wanting to pull them out. He supposed he could worry about that later. They were back away from the house, separated from the flowers that lined the perimeter of the house by a good amount of land. Robbie didn’t have to go anywhere near them.

“The owner loved to garden. As I mentioned, the relative still comes to tend it, but we’ll inform them of the sale.”

“They can pull up whatever they want, I don’t eat vegetables.”

“I’m sure you can use the boxes for flowers, or have them removed.”

“I’ll probably plant more flowers. I made my own dyes sometimes, for the clothes. You can’t always find the right color. I’m shocked the owner has so much land, all to himself.”

“I think they planned on starting a family-You know how it is. Life happens.”

“Of course…” Robbie moved back, shutting the large window and noticing the curtains were hemmed much like the ones downstairs. “I know that they’re having trouble selling the house but, can they really afford such a low price for so much land?”

“Well, the family member didn’t pay for it, the owner did. So it was inherited. And I believe they came into money when their parents passed? I’m not certain, the family member doesn’t talk to me much but he seems to have a lot of free time.”

“His loss.” Robbie shrugged, turning to head back downstairs. “This place has a basement? I need to make sure I see every part of the house.”

“Of course Mr. Rotten, this way.”

~~

One, and to Robbie the only, good thing about living in an apartment is the lack of space. This means less boxes to move. It didn’t take long for him and his cousin to move him in. He already had all the furniture, except the bed, he was going to buy a new one. Robbie shuttered at the thought of sleeping on something so small. Glanni quickly reminded him that it was a small dead man’s bed. But the small part was still the key point for Robbie.

It took longer getting Glanni to leave than it did moving and unpacking. His cousin seemed to like the space, calming there was enough room for him too. Robbie had to remind him several times that he wished to live alone.

Robbie spent at least a half an hour debating whether or not he should throw away the little drawings and knickknacks... but every time he reached for one he felt odd. Cold and sad. So he left them.

Robbie didn’t mind not having a bed, since he was use to sleep on his cousin’s sofa, now he had a chair that reclined. It felt better on his poor back and was easier to get out of. It also meant he could watch TV when he didn’t sleep, which was most of the time.

It wasn’t until the next morning after the move that he realized he forgot to go food shopping.

“Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to eat?” Robbie asked himself as he stormed out of the kitchen.

The only grocery store within miles didn’t open until nine and Robbie, not having slept, was awake and hungry now. He didn’t want to wait. As he stormed through the living room something red caught his eye and he stopped, wind milling to keep from falling over.

An apple.

“What the hell?” Robbie breathed out, walking over to the horrid thing. He sneered at it, “Glanni…” He must have left it to mock him. Revenge for moving without him. Well Robbie was an adult now, damnit, he could live on his own if he wanted to.

Picking up the small waist bin Robbie used one of the little knickknacks to push the apple in, not really wanting to touch it out of spite. He let the bin drop, the apple thumping about before heading for his purple coat by the door.

“Might as well greet my neighbors…” He muttered to himself as he shut the door behind him making sure to keep it unlock since he had yet to change it out for a new one.

Robbie wondered out onto the front porch and looked around. The neighbors on his left were out rocking on their chairs, and it looked like they had company. The sharp looking young man in a black suit, yellow suspenders and bowtie reminded Robbie of a bumble be. He pulled off leather driving gloves as he watched the woman in front of him do cartwheels up the driveway. She had brown hair and a pink and white dress. Thankfully she wore black leggings and pink sneakers. Then there was a hooligan walking next to the boy. She had long black hair and was wearing black pants and a read hoodie. She kept popping her gum loudly and Robbie was sure that bulge in the back was a slingshot.

The pink cartwheeling girl stopped a moment to look over at his house, eyes sad before landing on Robbie. Her mouth dropped open and she headed over, not saying anything to her companions. She jumped over the fence, clearing it with ease, and jogged over to stand in front of him, looking up with a smile.

“Hello Mister.” She said with a big smile and an enthusiastic wave.

“Um, hi there…” Robbie said, waving his hand in stilted movements.

“Are you looking at the house?”

“No, I just moved in yesterday.”

“Oh, well…Can I come in?”

“I don’t know you.” Robbie said, pushing off the rail and crossing his arms.

“Sorry, just…I use to know the man that lived here when I was a kid.”

“You’re still a kid.”

“I’m twenty two.”

“Right,” Robbie said. The girl put her fist on her hips and squinted up at him.

“Are you going to let me in or not?”

“Well Pinky, I’m going to the grocery store so no. Bug off.” Robbie said, waving his hand at her. She looks around, eyeing his old rusted car parked in his driveway.

“My names Stephanie.”

“I don’t care.” Robbie said, scrunching his nose.

“Okay, well Mister?”

“Rotten.”

“Mr. Rotten. Do you want me to drive you?” She asked, turning back to him.

“I can drive myself.”

“Maybe, but that bit hanging from under your car says it’ll take a while.” She smirked, pointing over to the drive.

“What?” Robbie turned, grabbing onto the rail. His engine’s under tray was lying on the ground. “Shit!”

“So, I guess I’ll just…?” She asked, pointing at the old couple who were now watching them. The other young adults seem to have gone inside.

“Fine! You can take me.” Robbie said, crossing his arms. She smiled up at him.

“Great I’ll get my fiancé and um….My friend.”

“Do they all have to come?”

“Yes.”

“Mm, go, let’s get this over with.”

~~

Robbie let himself be lead to the neighbors, refusing to jump over the fence like a kangaroo.

The old couple seemed nice. They were quiet, but friendly, the wife offering to bake a pie. They prattled on about how the poor brother of the previous owner had to come and tend the house, how he always looked sad, how they were happy that it finally sold to such a fine looking young man, so the poor boy didn’t have to suffer and how now he could move on with his life. There had mentioned how they use to see a lot of families view the house, normally with young children, and how they never seemed to want it. The husband was elbowed when he mentioned the one family had ran from the place, laughing to himself. Robbie raised an eyebrow but was distracted before he could ask about it.

“Hey, sorry we took so long. This is Stingy and Trixie, guys this is Mr. Rotten.” The hoodlum eyed him up and down with crossed arms, popping a large bubble before chewing obnoxiously.

“And we’re taking him to the store because?” Trixie asked, looking over to Stephanie.

“Because he’s Grandma and Pepa’s neighbor.” Stephanie defended, pointedly looking at her. The young man laid a gentle hair on Trixie’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine.” Stingy said, speaking softly. “If he turns out to be a weirdo we can leave him. Besides, you can probably easily beat him up.”

Robbie squawked indigent, what was with these brats?

“Be nice guys,” Stephanie said through her teeth. “Remember what I said.” The other two nodded, eyeing Robbie in suspicion.

“Can we go now? I’m starving.” Robbie asked, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

~~

The car was rather nice. A white convertible with gold seats and accenting. Robbie was a little afraid to touch it, glancing back at his old Kia. But everyone climbed in and the little hoodlum, Trixie, patted the seat next to her. He took a deep breath and got in, it smelt new still, the seats shinning. Trixie talked to him the whole car ride, rattling on about motorcycles, dogs, and fights she’d gotten into. Robbie decided he liked her. The three of them appeared to be in some sort of relationship, though Pinky and the stuck up fellow seemed to be engaged. He wasn’t sure how Trixie fit in but they were definitely poorly hiding something.

The shopping trip could be summed up with two comments: “Shouldn’t you get something healthier?” and “I didn’t ask you.” Robbie felt like he was going to have a headache if he had to spend any more time with these brats.

There were a few times when the Stingy boy would mutter to himself, when it got really bad one of the girls would walk over to him and whisper in his ear. Robbie wouldn’t really judge thought, he had his own list of issues. The boy always calmed down, which was nice, Robbie didn’t want to witness a murder. The only word he made out regularly was ‘mine’ but he was never really sure what he was referring to. Either way Robbie was happy when they got back to his place. Stephanie, of course, offered to help bring in the bags. She really wanted in the damn house and it was kind of creepy but Robbie wasn’t going to pass up the chance to be lazy. The other two reluctantly helped, Trixie looking rather uncomfortable.

Robbie had to fight with the bolt again, even thought he was certain he left it unlocked. It was still quite dusty inside, since Robbie hadn’t done much cleaning yet, and the particles swirled around in the rays of light. Stephanie walked into the foyer and looked at the pictures on the wall.

“You kept everything?” Stephanie asked in awe.

“What a creep,” Trixie laughed.

“I didn’t feel like taking it down! I’m too lazy, besides, I don’t have to decorate this way.” Robbie defended, crossing his arms with a pout. Stingy wondered into the living room, heading for the mantle and picking up a little yellow giraffe. “Hey, put that down.”

“I gave it to Sportacus.” Stingy said, turning to glare at Robbie.

“What?”

“Sportacus, I gave this to him.”

“That’s not a name.”

“Yes it is!”

“No. It’s not.”

“Well its mine so I’m taking it.”

“No, it came with the house, its mine. Put it down.” Robbie demanded, stamping his foot.

“Stingy please, come back here.” Trixie said, voice shaking.

“Sorry Trixie,” Stringy said, placing the clay animal back down and heading to her. “Give me your bags, go to Grandma and Pepa’s.” She nodded, handing them over and fleeing the house. Robbie watched in confusion

“You’re just a bunch of brats.” Robbie muttered to himself as he headed for the kitchen. Stephanie was standing with the fridge open, staring.

“Mr. Rotten, you already have food.” She said, turning to him.

“No I don’t,” Robbie grumbled, moving to stand behind her. He let out a disgusted gagging noise when he saw his fridge. It was full of fruits and vegetable. “Dear lord, is this some kind of trick? I told you brats I didn’t like vegetables.”

“Mr. Rotten when would we have done this?”

“I don’t know, maybe there’s a fourth little brat running around. My door was locked, but I left it unlocked, they obviously did that when they left.”

“But, Sir, you saw us arrive.” Stingy said, coming over to look as well.

“Look, see, I told you!” Stephanie said, turning to Stingy.

“This proves nothing Steph. You’ve got to let it go.”

“Maybe my cousin did it, I wouldn’t put it past him. I mean, he left an apple out eailer.” Robbie muttered to himself.

“An apple?” Stephanie asked, perking up.

“Stephanie…” Stingy warned. 

“You know something about this house and you’re not telling me.” Robbie said, tapping his chin.

“No!” They both yelled.

“You’re going to tell me.” Robbie warned as he grabbed the trash can.

“You can’t just throw that all away!” Stephanie said.

“I can and I will.”

“How about you let me take it? Please?”

“Fine,” Robbie whined, rolling his eyes. “Now get out of my house!”


	2. Peering Eyes and Yellow Roses

Robbie found himself wearing the blue hoodie. He knew many people might find it creepy but it had a soft white fluffy inside and it’s not like the guy died in it. Besides, the draft had gotten worse since the kids had banged his door shut. He couldn’t figure out where it was coming from thought. Oddly enough the bathroom was the one place that he never felt it. The pink girl always made him feel the coldest. She had come back several times. First with a pie, then looking for Pepa’s cat, then asking for sugar. Her reasons weren’t always good and he never let her in but she always came back.

The brats seemed to be staying for a while, visiting for their wedding. Apparently this was their home town and they wanted to make it easier for the older folk, didn’t want to make them travel. He’d see Trixie often staring from the house next door. She never came back over, decided yelling at him from the safety of the fence was appropriate. She’d often catch Robbie while he was tending to the flower beds. The other two tried to involve her in wedding perpetrations as much as possible but it looked suspicious if they let her make too many decisions. Stingy had asked if they could come over, talk there so they wouldn’t get caught involving her too much. Robbie thought about it, he wasn’t sure how he felt so he said no.

It had been a little over a week when he had the life scared out of him. He was sitting in the back garden, pruning his plants when there were footsteps.

“Finally decided to join me.” Robbie said, assuming Trixie had jumped the fence. He added a yellow rose to the pile on the ground before reaching to trim another.

“Hello,” was the thickly accented response. Robbie yelped, jumping to his feet and slipping. A strong hand grabbed his upper arm, holding him upright. “Sorry, I did not mean to frighten you.”

An attractive older gentlemen, maybe a little younger than his cousin, stood a foot shorter than him. His dirty blond hair curling up around his freckled face. His eyes were a deep blue and reminded Robbie of sky topaz.

“Who in hell are you?” Robbie blurted out, pulling his arm away.

“Sorry, I am the previous owner’s brother. I was told I was allowed to harvest my wegetables.”

“Oh! Yes, you can. What’s your name?” Robbie asked as he dusted his dirt covered hands off on his rear.

“I am Íþrótta¬álf¬ur¬inn.”

“Ah…”

“My friends call me Íþró.”

“Oh, um, it-throw…” The man laughed and smiled at him, lines around his eyes crinkling. “Did you want to come in? I have soda and, uh, tap water. You’ve left a lot of…stuff.” Robbie noticed then that the man was starting at the hoodie he was wearing. He could feel his face heat as he wrapped his arms around himself, grabbing the fabric at his shoulders. “I’m sorry-It was so soft-“

“It is alright. I must decline your generous offer. I am here only to pick my harvest then I will be out of your hair. Please, do as you wish with my brother’s items. I could never bring myself to throw them away myself.”

Something strange filled Robbie, an urge he couldn’t ignore. He needed to get this man in his house and he needed to now, before he lost his chance forever.

“I really insist you come in!” Robbie yelled, covering his hands over his mouth.

“I, er,” Íþró gave him an odd look, tilting his head. “I am sorry but I do not feel comfortable. It holds memories for me, ghost of a better time.”

“But! You might have forgotten something!” Robbie said, waving his arms around.

“I have gotten all that I wished when I was in their last.” Íþró said, his face stern and poster unyielding.

“But I’m sure there was something you forgot-“

“Mister, I need you to stop, my patience is wearing thin. My brother died in that house, I do not wish to go in.”

“Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean- Sorry.”

“I will be gone quick, please go back to gardening, it looks very nice and I am pleased it will flourish in your hands.”

“Thanks…” Robbie muttered, toeing at the dirt.

As soon as the man turned Robbie absconded inside, but the house felt colder than normal and it left him shivering as he watched the sweet older man harvest his crops. For a moment, Robbie could see his breath and on the window, as it fogged, a handprint. Short thick fingers, a wide palm and then it was gone, the cold leaving, fleeing, leaving Robbie covered in goose bumps.

He’d have to make sure he cleaned the windows, obviously some idiot viewing the house decided to touch the glass.

~~

Robbie woke up from his nap covered in his warm, soft blanket. Which was nice expect it had been in his room when he fell asleep downstairs. He only had a moment to wonder about this before he realized what had woken him. Robbie pushed himself off the soft chair, his blanket falling to the floor, and dragged his feet to the door, the incessant banging hurting his poor head. If it was that pink girl again he might lose his mind he thought as he turned the nob.

“Mr. Rotten can I come in!” Trixie yelled. She was in her pajamas, at least Robbie thought, black pants and a big red shirt.

“I thought you hated my house.” Robbie said, leaning on the door frame.

“I do. I just-Let me in, you old fart!” She yelled, stomping her foot on his porch. 

“Old fart? You little piece of-“ Robbie began but was quickly cut off as Trixie snuck under him, running into the kitchen. “Hey! I didn’t invite you in.” Robbie sighed as he shut the door, locking it, before heading into the kitchen. Trixie was pouring herself a glass of soda, a cookie on a napkin already. “Sure, help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“I was being sarcastic.” Robbie huffed, scrunching up his nose. 

“To bad,” Trixie said with a shrug. She poked his nose before walking over to the table, bare feet making little patting noises, and sat. Using both hands she pushed her long black hair behind her shoulders, putting her frown on display. Robbie stood and watched her eat his cookie a moment.

“So?”

“So what?” She asked, crumbs flying out of her mouth and onto the table.

“Your hair looks nice down.”

“Shut up. I don’t care.”

“Brat.” Robbie muttered as he sat down next to her.

“It’s just…”

“I don’t really care.”

“It’s hard, you know? I told them it was fine, them getting married, but it’s so hard being around family. And having to hide it while they get to sit next to each other, and hold hands, and sleep in the same room. And Pepa and Grandma keep giving me weird looks when Stingy and Steph ask me things. And I just-I hate it. It’s so dumb. Why can’t we just all get married?”

“Look brat, it’s dumb. People are stupid. People get mad because they’re afraid. I know it’s hard, but this wedding stuff will be over soon and then everything will be back to normal. And, maybe one day you can get married to them too, who knows? But, you should stand your ground, don’t let them walk all over you. If you want those old people to know then tell Stinky and Pinky that it’s important to you. Or you could be a little idiot and just act like your fine and harass your neighbored and steal his food.” Robbie rambled, waving his hand around in the air. He felt rather cozy at the moment, the soft hoodie felt almost like it was hugging him. But then the brat was talking again.

“Thanks Mr. Rotten, I’ll try to talk to them.”

“Try? You’ll try? Well, if you want to TRY something why don’t you TRY to walk out the door?”

“Ha, you’re funny Mr. Rotten. Can I call you Robbie?”

“No.”

“To bad.”

“So, you’re leaving then?”

“Nope.”

“I thought you hated it here.” Robbie said, resting his head in the palm of his hand. Trixie looked down at the crumb covered table.

“I don’t…I just-I …”

“You what kid?”

“I saw the body. I was the one that found him.” She muttered, hair falling back into her face as she curled into herself.

“Him-Oh.”

“He didn’t kill himself! He wouldn’t. Yeah he was upset we were going off to college but he still had his brother! And he knew we’d visit him. He just fell. The railing broke and he fell…”

“Kid?” Robbie asked, sitting up with his shoulders hunched in.

“They said that-that he was lonely, and didn’t-But he wouldn’t have! I mean, if you were going to kill yourself why would you do it that way?” Trixie asked, looking up into Robbie’s gray eyes.

“I don’t know?” He whispered. He was starting to feel cold again and this level of intense was too much for him.

“I got so angry. They said that he would have had to have gone head first over the rail and when I told them he probably was doing hand stands on it they yelled at me and told me to leave. But I’ve seen him do it! He likes-liked to do hand stands all the time! And the rail was broken! If he- he wouldn’t have broken it and- and I-I still see it at night! His eyes were open! Why would his eyes be open!?”

Robbie lunged forward, pulling the crying girl to his chest. He was full on panicking now, what was he supposed to do with a crying girl? How could he make her feel better after hearing _that_?

“Everyone always wanted me to leave-He was-he was always happy to see me.” Trixie sobbed, grabbing onto Robbie.

“I’m sorry kid…” Robbie mumbled.

“Why is it so fucking cold in here?” Trixie asked, voice breaking as she rubbed her wet cheeks on Robbie’s blue hoodie.

“Beats me.” Robbie sighed, patting Trixie’s back a little too hard.

“Robbie?” She asked, pulling away from him to look in his eyes again. The eye contact only unsettled him more.

“What brat?”

“Do you believe in ghost?”

Robbie opened his mouth only to shriek along with Trixie when there was a loud knock on the front door.

“Holy shit,” Trixie breathe out.

“You said it,” Robbie added as he stood to answer the door.

Stingy and Stephanie stood in their pajamas, worried looks on their faces.

“Mr. Rotten, Is Trixie here?” Stingy asked, looking around Robbie.

“Why does everyone think it’s okay to bother me at night?” Robbie huffed, glaring at the two intruders.

“Is she?” Stephanie asked, hands balled up in front of her chest.

“She’s in the kitchen.” Robbie sighed, moving out of the way so the brats could run in.

Robbie could hear them talking from the kitchen. Trixie pouring her heart out as she sobbed into Stingy’s chest. Robbie didn’t really want to deal with that level of drama so he wondered into the living room. He supposed he could let them plan here from now on, if it kept them from bothering him at night. Besides, it didn’t seem like such a horrible thing all of a sudden, having people over…

Robbie found himself staring up at the broken railing, the cold clinging to his skin like wet blanket.

~

Robbie’s fingers hurt form being poked a few too many times. He loved his work but it could be a real pain sometimes. The evening dress he had been sewing all day was finally finished. He admired the flowing red silk, the black patterns hand stitched into the sleeves and the bottom of the gown and the gold belt around the waist. It was for a Christmas party, he knew that much, and he was tempted to add white fuzz but felt as though it was too over the top for his costumer. She seemed very plain. But it didn't matter, what _did_ matter was now he could rest.

That is if his body let him.

Robbie let himself fall backwards into his soft chair, rubbing his cheeks against the material, it smelt like strawberries and honey. Most of the things here smelt like that. He wondered what kind of cleaner the owner used, whenever Robbie bothered to clean it always smelt of bleach.

With a sigh he picked up his remote, switching on the television. Robbie spent a good ten minutes flipping through the channels, wondering about the brats before he landed on a baking show. The cooking channel always helped him sleep. All the beautiful food gave him sweet dreams.

Robbie watched the gorgeous cake being iced, eye lids getting heavy, as he drifted off into sweet nothing...

Yelling.

Robbie sat up straight in his chair with a gasp. Soccer. There was soccer on his TV. How the hell did that happen? Robbie switched back to the cooking channel and felt himself relax a bit. He sat, limbs thrown about, watching the creamy white pasta move about in its bowel before deciding he was hungry. Wondering into the kitchen he sorted through his horde of frozen meals...and what appeared to be vegetables shoved in what little space there was. He was getting a little tired of throwing this stuff away.

He should compost for his flowers.

Maybe he'd do it later.

Robbie stumbled on a creamy pasta with "chicken" meal. That would work.

As Robbie microwaved his food he heard the district sound of "goal" being yelled over his television. He stomped his foot on the white linoleum, as if he were crushing the little purple flowers printed on the surface, letting out an angry huff.

"What the fuck?" Robbie muttered, peeking around the corner, hands on the door frame. As soon as his foot slipped over the threshold, resting on the dark wood, the channel changed back.

The kids must be messing with him again...

But all the windows had the shades drawn.

"Do you believe in ghost?" Robbie muttered. That was what Trixie asked wasn't it? Ghost couldn't be real, she was just a stupid grief ridden child. But, she was a smart girl...

"Sportaguy?" Robbie said, not sure what the name was that the stinky kid used. There was, of course, no answer. "You're going insane." Robbie muttered as he headed back to his food. He waited a moment, listening, and after about three minutes the channel changed again. Robbie huffed. The kids must have a remote linked to his television or something. Whatever. He sat down at his kitchen table and shoved the food into his mouth. He'd just eat in here, so they couldn't bother him. Then he’d go back and sleep on his chair with the TV unplugged.

When Robbie woke the second time he felt well rested, delightfully fuzzy, and warm.

He let out a content sigh, ignoring the blanket now on him. It was quiet, and dusk brought shadows and dark blues into the room.

It had been a while. Living with Glanni made it difficult for Robbie to enjoy himself privately but, this was his house and he was alone. Robbie looked around still, a little paranoid one of the brats was lurking about, before wiggling in his seat, getting comfortable. He rested one of his slender hands on his stomach, rucking up his shirt, as the other made its way under the blanket. Robbie's eyes fluttered close and he opened his mouth slight as he palmed himself through is pants.

The heat in the room spiked, making Robbie feel dizzy. Then something collided with his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Robbie yelled and looked down in his lap. A baseball.

Robbie's head snapped up, eyes full of fire as he yelled out at the empty room.

"I know you're there you Sportaprick!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow Rose: Friendship,  
> Verbena:Well Wishes, healing, happness, love. Protect against harm and evil exc  
> Forgetmenots: True and undying love, remember during partings or after death, connection that last through time, loyalty in relastinship despite challenges or seprations, reminder of favoret membriores, growing affection, exc.


	3. Ghostly Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short bc its an interlude, chapter 4 will be long again

He felt like he was starting to fade away and it scared him. He missed the smiling faces of children, the laughter of his brother, the feeling of the sun on his skin and the smell of his freshly bloomed flowers.

He had none of that now.

The people came fewer and fewer to look at his house. He tried to talk to them but none of the adults heard him, complaining of the cold that was his sadness, his loneliness. The children would see him sometimes. He'd smile and they'd cry and run. Leaving him alone again.

His brother only came once. To see his body before he took every photo and left, leaving him with nothing but the drawings and knickknacks the children gave him.

The children...

Poor Trixie was the one who had found his body.

She refused to come back into the house.

The others visited a bit at first. And Stephanie. Stephanie, she could hear him sometimes, faintly, but none of the others believed her so he stopped after seeing the distress on her beautiful face.

The years felt like decades, time blending together. He had no way to keep track and for some reason he couldn’t leave the house. He spent his time napping, wondering aimlessly through the house, staring at the things the kids left behind, and learning how to touch objects, move things, conjure.

He had been laying on the sofa when the tall, grumpy, beautiful man came.

He couldn't see him either.

The man, Robbie, Robbie talked to himself a lot, filling the house with noise. And soon, with people. The kids came and visited, they were so much older. They looked like adults.

His brother came close to the house. The desperation in Robbie's voice matched what was inside him. Almost like Robbie could feel him...

But Robbie still could not see him.

He followed him all over the house, everywhere but the bathroom. He knew he was making Robbie cold but the man was wearing his hoodie. And he covered him with blankets. So he kept warm enough.

He caught the tall man huddled in his blankets looking at the presents the kids left behind every now and then. He still was afraid Robbie would rip them down and throw them away, but every time it looked like he was thinking about it he'd pause, pull away, and wonder off.

He started to talk to him, he knew Robbie couldn't hear him, but it made him feel better. More normal, less like he was turning into nothing. If he timed himself right he could make it sound like Robbie was responding to him.

He wasn't sure if Robbie would ever be able to see him. He wish he knew more about his situation. Why he was here. Why he couldn't leave. Why there was no one else like him.

But above all...

Sportacus wished Robbie could see him.


	4. Lonely With You

“Robbie, can you see me?” Sportacus asked but those gray eyes did not focus on him. A loud knock at the door drew them away. The blanket fell from his lap as Robbie pushed himself out of the plush chair. 

 

Letting out a huff Robbie stomped off, slipping a bit on the polished wood floor. Sportacus following a few feet away, eyes drifting to the pictures in the hall that covered most of the blue wallpaper. 

 

“Can’t even masturbate in my own house,” Robbie grumbled as he yanked the door open, cringing as the hinges groaned, frame swollen from the cold air and moisture. 

 

“Hi Mr. Rotten,” Stephanie waved, leaning forward on the balls of her feet and smiling up at him. 

 

“What do you want brat?” Robbie asked as he pulled the blue hood over his messy hair. The white fluff lining gently brushed the side of his cheek reminded him of Glanni gently caressing him with the tips of his soft fingers on those long miserable nights where nothing seemed to comfort him. 

 

“I’m sorry I’m making you cold, I can’t really help it. It’s just hard seeing her,” Sportacus whispered. He reached out to one of the drawings, resting his hand on the dry paper. A little girl in pink and a man in blue holding hands, yellowed around the edges from the sun. 

 

“I wanted to see how you were doing?” Stephanie asked, swaying a little in an attempt to look innocent. Robbie's eyes focused in on the bright pink fabric brushing her scrapped knees. Very childlike for a young woman. She must buy her clothing at a discount store, Robbie was quite surprised Stingy didn't object. Maybe he did though. Robbie could do better easily.

 

“You wanted in my house.” Robbie grumbled, pulling himself from his thoughts of muted pink dresses with shorts attached. That way she could do her stupid little flips... 

 

Sportacus pulled the drawing from the wall, letting it float down in front of Stephanie who leaned over to pick it up. 

 

“This is my drawling.” Stephanie said as she examined the picture. 

 

“No. It’s in my house so it’s my drawling.” Robbie corrected her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re letting all my heat out.” 

 

“I didn’t think you’d had the heat on.” 

 

“Well maybe if you brats stopped coming over it would get warm.” Robbie said, moving away from the door and letting Stephanie in. “Who’s the stupid blue one?” 

 

“What?” Stephanie asked, slipping her shoes off. Robbie jabbed a long finger at one of the pictures on the wall. 

 

“I figured the pink one is you, the red one is Trixie, and the yellow your stupid Sticky boy. I don’t know who the other kids are, but there’s always one adult which is kind of weird.” 

 

“Oh, that’s Sportacus. We told you before he used to live here. His favorite color was blue.” She said as she moved to stand next to Robbie, looking at the faded pictures. 

 

“So, what, was he? Some creepy pedo or something?” Robbie huffed, hugging himself in an attempt to get warm. 

 

“What?!” Sportacus yelped. 

 

“Ew, what is wrong with you? He was just a nice guy that babysat us. He taught us to eat healthy and play outside.” Stephanie said as she took a seat on the sofa, coughing as the dust was disturbed and it started its slow dance through the air. She attempted to wave it away but only made them twirl in circles. "Don't you ever clean?" 

 

“Sounds horrible,” Robbie muttered, ignoring the last question and secretly answering it in his own way. 

 

“It was fun. He’d do all these tricks like hand stands and splits and he was super nice and listened to us when we talked." And suddenly Robbie knew where she got it from. Maybe if this guy taught her to wear pants she wouldn't scrape up her knees. Robbie looked up again, realizing he wasn't paying attention. "His favorite was apples. He'd always have some in his little back pack. I think he was diabetic because he'd have some other things in there as well and I think I saw him checking his blood. But I'm not sure how that really works. Anyway, like I was saying, I feel like most adults don’t care about what kids had to say. It was nice being treated as an equal.” 

 

"Mm." 

 

"Are you listening to me?" Stephanie demanded. 

 

Robbie looked away, hiding his smile as he ran his long fingers through the fur of his chair, but Sportacus saw. Robbie felt the room warm, he tried to ignore it. He didn't really know what to think about this whole "ghost" thing. He didn't like the thought of a stranger watching him. He turned back to Stephanie who was calling his name. 

 

"Hey... So um, your little friend said you use to, uh, hear him?" Robbie regretted asking as soon as the words left his mouth. The pink girl's eye's widened and she leaned forward so much Robbie thought she'd fall. 

 

"Do you?" She asked in a whisper, face very serious. 

 

"No, of course not I-" Her face fell and the room started to cool rapidity. "I was hit with ball," Robbie relented with a sigh. 

 

"A ball?" Stephanie looked at him and Robbie felt he wasn't being taken seriously. He looked at the old silk curtains, still, unmoving. 

 

"The curtains don't move." Robbie said, throwing a hand up. 

 

"So?" Stephanie asked. Robbie was almost certain the head movement she just pulled must have hurt. 

 

"It's cold in here and I have the heat blasting. If there was a draft the curtains would move." Robbie waited for a response and when he got none his mouth fell open again. "Ignore me. I'm just a crazy old man." 

 

Stephine watched him slouch in his chair. She looked like she wanted to say something but nothing came out and Robbie got tired of waiting. 

 

"Do you have a real picture?" Robbie asked. 

 

"What?" Stephani asked, her eyes moving from the fire place. 

 

"A real picture of the health nut that likes to spend his time with kids?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

Robbie waited again. 

 

"Are you going to show me?" Robbie grunted. 

 

"Oh! No. I mean, I don’t have it on me. I can bring it over later if you'd like? Like tomorrow?" 

 

Robbie told himself no. This was a bad idea. That his brain would imagine the guy in his bedroom staring at him, probably with a knife. But his mouth opened and before he knew what was happening he was saying "Yes." 

 

~ 

 

Robbie's eyes hurt. They were dry and they hurt and he was clenching his jaw again and he was going to get a migraine. He groaned and sat up straight, back popping. 

 

"It's beautiful," Sportacus said, reaching out to touch the purple fabric. His fingers made contact but he felt nothing as they ran over the shinning fabric. 

 

"Is this even worth it? My head is going to explode," Robbie muttered to himself, scrubbing his face with his hands almost violeintly. 

 

"Of course, it is Robbie. It's something you put effort into. You make wonderful outfits." Sportaucs said, looking at the tall man sitting beside him. Robbie huffed and stood, chair scraping against the wood floor causing Sportacus' to cringe. 

 

"I should eat something." Robbie told himself. 

 

Robbie moved, walking throught Sportacus who felt like someone slapped him in the face. His little illusion falling apart. He followed Robbie after he gathered himself both figuratively and literally. 

 

When Sportacus joined Robbie in the kitchen the tall man was mixing eggs and vanilla extract into a bowl, muttering to himself. In a quick movement Robbie dipped his finger into the bowl and licked it. Sportacus thought if he could throw up he would. 

 

“Hmm…more sugar or more butter," Robbie asked himself. 

 

“Oh Gods neither, please, that is so unhealthy. I didn't even think you _put_ butter in that.” Sportacus said, face scrunched in worry. 

 

“Hm…” Robbie tasted it again. 

 

“I do not want to see you die of a heart attack.” 

 

“Both?” 

 

“Oh no.” 

 

“Both," Robbie nodded, adding the butter and sugar. Robbie felt a shiver run up his spine and he stopped, looking around the empty room. "Get over it Robbie." 

 

"Please see me..." Sportacus whispered. Robbie shook his head and started to dip his stale bread into the mix. 

 

~ 

 

Robbie spent all night finishing his outfit, the client was expecting it in the mail by morning. Robbie had to rush to the door as the mail woman put his junk mail though his door slit. She stared at him as he huffed, holding out the box with the printed-out label. 

 

Finally, he could relax. He sunk down into his chair, trying to ignore the mail women's rant about "spooking" her. His eyes fluttered shut and he heard the sofa creak. He opened his eyes and watched the newly disturbed dust dance in the morning light, his gaze flicking over to the sofa. The scream fell out of his mouth and soon a second joined his.


	5. Sweet Topaz and Pearly Smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter

"Why are _you_ screaming?" Robbie asked. 

On the warn sofa bathed in the morning rays of light seeping past the parts in the silk curtains sat a young man with piercing blue eyes. The dancing specks of dust drifting through the air added to the dreamlike scene before him, almost making the man appeared opaque. His blond curls seemed to glow to Robbie in his sleep-deprived state. 

There is no way this man was real. He must either be asleep or hallucinating from lack thereof. 

"Because you were screaming..." Sportacus said. 

Robbie found the strange man's accent both annoying and soothing, like that time Glanni ran his manicured nails over his scalp then slapped him. It kind of pissed Robbie off that his mind would give him such an enticing image when in reality no one that gorgeous would talk to him. Robbie glowered and pulled his knees up, covering most of himself with his blanket. 

"Well stop that. Why are you even here?" Robbie muttered, searching his side table for anything edible. Nothing. 

"Well. I, uh, live here?" Sportacus said, rubbing the back of his head. 

“No, I live here. This is _my_ house.” 

It dawned on Sportacus suddenly that Robbie could see him. Hear him. It would probably be a good idea not to scare him. 

“Well, I’m sorry I scared you,” Sportcaus said as he tried to contain excited. Robbie shifted in his chair and pulled his blanket up to his chin. 

“I’m hallucinating.” Robbie muttered to himself. “I suppose that’s not your fault.” 

“Is it a good hallucination?” Sportacus asked hopefully. Robbie seemed to think about this a moment before answering. 

“...yes. For now, at least.” Robbie’s eyes closed as he leaned his head on a few of his fingers, one long digit pressing hard into his temple. 

“Do you...Do you often hallucinate?” Sportacus asked, suddenly worried. 

“When I don’t sleep, yeah.” 

“You don’t sleep a lot. It’s worrying.” 

“Well it's not like I can help it,” Robbie said, irritation in his voice. He opened his eyes and shot a glare at the man on the sofa. 

Sportacus looked at the TV and decided he probably shouldn’t piss off the only person in the world that can talk to him. He was lonely enough and couldn’t waist this chance. 

“I’m Alex-” Sporatucs started but Robbie shifted and grumped at him. 

“I don’t care. You won't be here tomorrow.” Robbie’s stomach flipped at the little frown Alex gave him. No. Pout. That was a pout. Those beautiful eyes darted over to him and Robbie straightened his back. His mind has never given him such a petty illusion before. “...So. A-Alex. What-um...” Robbie trailed off at that pearly smile. God he was losing it over a hallucination. 

“Do you like soccer?” Alex asked out of nowhere in Robbie's opinion. 

“No.” 

“Oh...well do you like any sports?” Alex gave Robbie a cute hopeful smile and Robbie shifted again in his seat. 

“No... Well. Figure skating is okay.” Robbie relented at the disappointed look. He noted with a pleased smirk that it was now quickly being replaced with excitement. 

“Can we watch some?” Spartacus asked. He didn’t think it would be smart to grab the remote himself since Robbie thought he wasn’t real. 

Robbie eyed Alex a moment then sighed. “Fine,” He said as he reached for the remote and pulled up some old figure skating from OnDemand. He did enjoy how they glided across the ice. 

After a while his eyes started to get heavy. It had gotten really warm in the room and if it wasn’t for Alex giving him side glances, he would have already fallen asleep. 

“Can I help you?” Robbie asked, trying to make his annoyance clear. 

“Oh! No! I’ll just. I can go make you some tea.” Sportacus sputtered, forgetting for a moment that he shouldn't touch things. 

Robbie’s eyes started to drop as he watched Alex disappear into the kitchen. Soon he was swallowed by the darkness. 

Robbie awoke as the sun sunk low behind the trees that lined the quiet street. It took him a moment to notice why though, the pounding he thought was in his head actually coming from the door. He pushed himself out of the chair then stopped, frozen a moment. Then his head darted to the empty warn sofa. Nothing was there. Of course not. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach and walked unsteadily towards the front door, having to push off the wall a bit as he rounded the sofa, his body unsteady in his sleepy state. 

When he got to the door Robbie pulled it open with a snarl but Stephanie just smiled at him as if he had greeted her with a warm welcome. 

“Good afternoon Mr. Rotten, I hope I didn’t bother you. I brought you that picture.” Stephanie said with a smile as she pushed her way in passed Robbie. 

“No. Come in why don’t you,” Robbie muttered as he pushed his door closed. 

“Thanks. Here,” She pushed the picture at him and he took it as he stared at her. “That’s him, I'll make you something for dinner, you look like you haven’t eaten in years.” And with that, she was running off to the kitchen. 

Robbie looked down at the picture in his hand and his breath left him. The man. He knew that smile. That dirty blond curlily hair. Those icy topaz eyes. Alex...


End file.
